It may look a little th' worse
f'r wear fr'm bein' hurled again a republican majority in this counthry
f'r forty years, but it's all right. Take my vote an' use it as ye
please,' says I, 'an' I'll get an hour or two exthry sleep iliction day
mornin',' says I. 'I've voted so often I'm tired iv it annyhow,' says I.
'But,' says I, 'why shud anny wan so young an' beautiful as ye want to
do annything so foolish as to vote?' says I. 'Ain't we intilligent
enough?' says she. 'Ye'ar too intilligent,' says I. 'But intilligence
don't give ye a vote.'
"'What does, thin,' says she. 'Well,' says I, 'enough iv ye at wan time
wantin' it enough. How many ladies ar-re there in ye'er Woman's Rights
Club?' 'Twinty,' says she. 'Make it three hundher,' says I, 'an' ye'll
be on ye'er way. Ye'er mother doesn't want it, does she? No, nor ye'er
sister Katie? No, nor ye'er cousin, nor ye'er aunt? All that iliction
day means to thim is th' old man goin' off in th' mornin' with a light
step an' fire in his eye, an' comin' home too late at night with a dent
in his hat, news-boys hollerin' exthries with th' news that fifty-four
votes had been cast in th' third precint in th' sivinth ward at 8
o'clock, an' Packy an' Aloysius stealin' bar'ls fr'm th' groceryman f'r
th' bone-fire.
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